A twitch ran through the thief, her eyes darting to the side.
The spinning, wickedly bladed throwing stars whisked through the air, their passing marked only a near silent hiss of displaced air. They struck with wet squelches, tearing through cloth and sinking into vulnerable flesh. Drops of red marred the floor, spraying out from the wounds.
Dash’s bare feet slapped onto the wood of Trap Sense’s small work table, knocking aside screws, springs and the general clutter of a trap maker. Her hand dug into it, looking for a weapon, while she drew a dagger from the folds of her rags. The throwing stars had whisked through the place she had been standing moments before, sinking into the corpse.
“Try to sneak up on me will ya,” she snarled, glaring at him. Her eyesight had always given her an edge, seeing in dim light with little trouble. It allowed her to see the black-clad rat, bipedal and taller than her, dropping from the back of the door. It chittered angrily, drawing serrated black blades, one clutched in each claw. Her hand curled around something long and hard, cool iron rough against her bathed skin.
The assassin leapt after her, one bleak shortsword leading in a slash at her ankle. As nimbly as before she jumped, leaving his blade to score the wood and scatter the mess off the table. She extended her hand, the short, heavy iron bar flying at the creature’s head. It ducked, other blade smacking the makeshift weapon away. Landing in a roll, Dash reached for the door. The woosh of something heavy slicing through the air made her jerk back, drawing her hand back from the door handle. One of the black-bladed shortswords slammed into the door, smashing the wood of the frame.
“Idiot,” Dash laughed, grabbing the hilt. “Jammed the door shut, but hey, you just gave me another weap-argh!”
A shock ran through her body, a scream tearing her throat. Through the pain she saw the flare of flame lighting her hand from within and forced her fingers to part, releasing the weapon. The smell of burnt skin joined the heavy scent of blood. The crackle of fire faded but the pain didn’t, and as she clasped her injured right hand in her left, she dimly realized she had dropped her own weapon. A mocking snicker left the wererat’s muzzle, bloodied from its hearty snack, as she pressed her hand to her chest. Though faint with pain, Dash forced herself to focus on the assassin advancing towards her. She ducked below a cut that would have opened her throat, rolling away. The room was smaller than she liked, and her right hand felt like she had stuck it in a furnace.
He pulled his weapon free, jerking it out and giving the splintered wood a tap. It would take longer than she had to get the door open now, if she tried more than a hand would suffer for it. Both weapons in paw, it turned back to her, beady red eyes gleaming with sinister intent.
Dash grew back, trying to put distance between them. Her mind raced, searching for something to defend herself with.
‘Damn it, why’d I have to drop my dagger!’ She cast about, looking for her weapon, but she must have knocked it away or moved too far from where it fell when she treated from the wererat. Speaking of which…
“I thought you freaks were gone,” she snarled, hoping to distract or anger him. “Way I heard it, the last time wererats started appearing again the anthill was kicked over so hard the Solar Guard purged the entire sewers. Burned you monsters into ash.”
To her annoyance the taunts just slid off the wererat. He paced slightly, forcing her to move as well to keep him in front of her. He stopped, she stopped, his back to a small window set high in the wall. Through she just made out the setting sun, the last light of the day fleeing as night overtook the city.
‘Why isn’t he attacking?’ Dash couldn’t help but wonder. She blinked, and the answer was suddenly more than apparent. The shadows had grown as the day finally began to die, darkness creeping to fill the room moment by moment. She could see in the dimmest of light - but soon there wouldn’t be any light.
She was going to be blind, but he wouldn’t. Stories were still told in the midden about the days when the wererats fought for control of the city’s underworld. With sharper senses and a wider range, they could fight in the blackest night as easily as a human could at midday.
“Damn it…” she hissed, left hand curling into a tight fist. He was poised to strike, and she didn’t have any weapons to counter the reach and lethality of his swords.
‘Where in the long night is Applejack?’ she thought despairingly, glaring defiantly at the wererat waiting to kill her. ‘If she’s going to protect me, now would be the time!’
*
Applejack leaned against the wall, whistling under her breath. She was bored. She glanced at the shack Dash had vanished into.
‘Darn it, I’m gettin’ bored,’ she sighed, pushing herself upright. The din of the slums was a constant murmur, one she still wasn’t used to. ‘I could pick out the sound of a twig breakin’ in a storm back home, but here, damn makes me feel like my head’s stuffed fulla cotton.’
Sighing again, the ranger watched the shack with a dour expression, seeking in vain any signs that she could finally do something.
*
Dash charged, letting out a yell she hoped someone, anyone, would hear. All she needed was a commotion outside to draw Applejack’s attention to the fact something wasn’t going right. Her right hand’s ache hammered at her, distracting her. Her bare foot splashed into Trap Sense’s blood, sliding a wet line as she slid to one side to avoid a perilous thrust. The wererat let out a snicker, his other sword slicing out towards her stomach. She threw herself back with a grunt, yelping as she finally lost her balance. The serrated edge tore through her ragged shirt, barely a centimetre from her defenseless skin, as she fell.
Hitting the floor, the wind knocked out of her, Dash’s vision wavered for a moment. Coupled with the darkening of the room, she almost didn’t realise he was on top of her until too late. Shortswords held in reverse grips, his tongue snaked out, licking blood from his muzzle as he paused. She knew what he was doing; enjoying the moment before he struck, wanting to see the terror in her eyes as she realised she was going to die. He wanted to hear her beg, cry, throw herself on his mercy.
The throb of her hand faded away, lost in the fire that lit within her. No, not a fire. The storm. She raged at his arrogance, at the arrogance a monster, feeding a primordial rush. She looked into his eyes, but she didn’t see the beady little red eyes of the rat. She just saw what she had seen her entire life, looking down at her no matter where she went or what she did. Arrogant, mocking eyes, filled with greed and spite and lust.
Her lips moved, speaking words she didn’t understand. They hummed with a life of their own, the words she spoke wispy and breathless, like each sound was simply the wind whistling through the sky. Her hands jerked as static ran through them, guiding her into sharp gestures that simply felt right. Her blood sung, pounding in her ears, a symphony born of the roaring winds and the striking lightning, the boom of thunder and the drum of rain, all of it backed by the constant beat of wings. It was the lightning that drew her now. She saw them in her mind, stabbing at the earth with lethal intensity. They flashed with the promise of might and power, transforming the static guiding her hands as she sketched their symbol into a reflection of their strength. Energy washed across her fingers, grounding in her palms, and she held the lightning in her grasp. She struck.
He snarled, eyes narrowing, smug certainty replaced by confusion for an instant too long. He paused, only a single moment of hesitation that cost him the last chance he had for a clean kill. Dash’s hands shot out slamming into his chest. The black leather pressed against his fur, her thin arms lacking the strength to push him away. That wasn’t her intention. The lightning in her hands was unleashed, and no armour could stop it. The vibrant blue of lightning lit the room for a moment, banishing the shadows as electricity flared through the rat-man. He let out a feral shriek of pain, recoiling from her deadly touch. He slashed the air before him, keeping her from pressing the advantage.
“What-” he snarled his first word, snapping his pointed muzzle shut the moment he realised he had spoken. Narrowing his eyes, rage replaced confusion.
Dash pulled herself to her feet, smirking to hide her own confusion. His look of anger was lost on her, but she could feel it in the air, feel the heat of his fury. The assassin had been playing with her before, what she had just, done, whatever it was-
“Your magic,” Twilight whispered from her memory.
- changed the game now. In fact, it had ended the game.
“Don’t come any closer!” Dash cried, thrusting her undamaged hand at him, palm out. “One step and I’ll fry you where you stand, rat-man!”
He hesitated. For an instant, he actually hesitated. Her heart soared, but his eyes narrowed and her hopes plummeted. Desperately she sought the same feeling as before, but it escaped her. Something had changed, but the trigger for her...her magic, if that’s what it was, was too elusive for her to grasp.
Some of her panic must have shown on her face, because he snickered again. Dash decided she was really starting to hate that sound. The wererat leveled his blades, stretching his lips back to expose a mouthful of wicked fangs, yellow where they weren’t slick with blood. She could only pick out the general shape now, his bloody maw lost on her.
Gulping, Dash faced him with a confidence she didn’t feel. She wasn’t going to let him win that easily.
“You aren’t eating my heart today, ugly.”
A snort of contempt was all she got in answer. She tensed, staring hard, as though she might part the darkness through sheer force of will. A flicker of movement betrayed his pounce, a vicious screech announcing it as he attacked. It was a sound of confidence, the cry of a predator who knew his prey was helpless.
It also hid the crash of thick soled boots slamming the front door open, though the heavy pounding steps that followed lost the concealing sound. Dash jumped, her foot catching on something and hurling her to the ground. With the speed of desperation she pushed off, rolling towards the door. He followed, one of his blades coming so close that it nicked her cheek and left a bloody slice under her eye.
Dash hit the wall with a hiss of pain at the same moment as the door exploded open. The splinters from the frame, such an issue for her, snapped easily under the force of dynamic entry. Applejack charged into the room, roaring and leading the way with her greatsword. She moved with a surety Dash lacked, unleashing a blow that forced the startled wererat back. He retorted in a rapid flurry, his attack sacrificing power for speed. Applejack met it head on, using the heavier, wider blade of her greatsword to fend them off. She didn’t hesitate at the sight of her monstrous foe, simply striking at the bipedal rat-beast.
“Dash, get behind me!” she ordered, her tone brooking no argument. She settled into a an unfamiliar stance, holding her weapon before her. The small room left her little space to properly swing, her own weapon’s greater reach putting her at a disadvantage. Instead of swings she thrust, the slow blow easily evaded by her nimble foe.
“But-” Dash began to argue, apparently missing the ‘brooking no argument’ part of Applejack’s voice. She pushed herself up, back to the wall and head still ringing from the impact before. The wound on her cheek stung, somehow far worse than her burned hand, and she shuddered.
“There’s a dagger in the back of my belt,” interrupted Applejack, staring straight into the wererat’s eyes. He retreated, inspecting her the same as she was inspecting him. Her eyes gleamed with a magical sheen, piercing the gloom.
“A-Applejack…” Dash drew the dagger, her left hand trembling around the hilt. Her breath came in rapid gasps, chest heaving in and out. They couldn’t win. With each throb of the small cut, she felt the crushing knowledge that she couldn’t win, he was too good, it was all over-
Applejack moved one hand off her sword and slapped Dash across the face without even looking back at her. The thief’s mumbling cut off and she let out a sharp cry of surprise.
“Burning day, what was that for?” She pressed the back of her right hand against her cheek, nursing the spot Applejack had struck her.
“Fear magic, sugar, I’ve seen it before. Now hush an’ focus. Ya can’t see him, can ya?” Applejack jerked back, blade shifting to defend herself. He twisted, his attack turning into a feint that left her off balance. “Burnin’-”
She thrust, driving the point of her sword at his stomach. He ducked to one side, his right sword cutting parallel above hers through the air. It bit into her armoured coat, drawing a grunt of pain from Applejack. She felt a spike of unnatural fear, but it bounced off her will.
“Cheap tricks ain’t gonna work on me, rat-bastard,” she snarled, answering with a powerful attack. Tumbling back, he landed beneath the window. A flick of his fingers launched something small and round into the floor beneath him. It opened with a sharp crack, a plume of smoke hiding him from sight. Dash ducked out the door, wary of an attack from his cover, and Applejack snarled a curse when her greatsword cut through only smoke.
Dash peeked back in, the smoke dissipating only seconds after its release. “Hey, he’s getting away!” She pointed up, and Applejack yelled another curse. The wererat didn’t bother looking as he vanished through the window, tail slapping against the sill.
“Long night, get back here, ya dirty, cowardly murderer!” Despite her threat, the wererat failed to reappear. They heard him hit the ground outside, and then, nothing. Applejack swore, glancing down at Trap Sense’s corpse with a grimace. Sighing, she turned to Dash.
The thief stared at Trap Sense’s body, but the confusion on her face had little to do with him. What she had done, the magic she had done, was finally sinking in.
‘I can do magic,’ she thought with more than a trace of amazement. Something blurred in front her eyes, interrupting her musing, and she jumped back with a start.
“Ya’ll okay?” Applejack asked. “Ya weren’t respondin’. Come on, let’s get outta here before someone gets curious. Between that light show an’ the fight, I’m surprise no one has already.”
“T-they won’t, someone would have gone to the guild or the local gang. Think that’s the...Ironbiters,” Dash mumbled. She reached up to wipe sweat she was only now noticing from her cheek. She hissed in pain, jerking her bloodied, burned hand away. The pain cut through the haze and she shook her head.
Applejack helped her up, looking at the burned hand. “Lemme see that.”
“We gotta get moving, they’ll be around too and if they find us here- ow! Let go!” Pulling at the arm Applejack had taken, Dash found it caught in an iron grip. “I’m fine- ow!”
Not giving the smaller girl’s complaints any attention, Applejack continued to inspect the wound. “Ya’ll needa get this looked at, Rainbow, I don’t like the look of it.”
“Rea-ow! Really? I totally thought the fact my hand was burnt and it’s throbbing like mad is its way of saying everything is fine and dandy!” the thief snarked. Her arm was finally released, so she drew it back.
“Right. let’s get goin’. Twilight should still have some healing potions, we needa get that hand taken care of, an’ tell her about this. That was a damn wererat or I’m an elf,” Applejack started towards the door, hesitating after a step or two. She glanced back at the body. “Maybe we better take the back door.”
“Yeah, ugh, let’s get outta here. Trap Sense was pretty well liked, for a trap maker, so I don’t want anyone thinking I had anything to do with this.” Dash nodded towards the back of the shack. “Only one problem; no back door.”
Applejack shot her a slight smirk. “Really? Don’t worry, sugar, I got this.”
*
She peered at the back of Trap Sense’s home, chewing her lip. Her brilliant plan was suddenly feeling a lot less brilliant. Strange burst of light and the huge rat-monster that had come crawling out the window had rather made her hesitate.
“Dash…” she mumbled, pressing into the old brickwork that formed her little hiding spot. ‘They were certain it was her...’
The sound of splintering wood made her jump, slamming her head into the top of the cubbyhole she was concealed in. Stars danced in front of her eyes, and she groaned at the ache.
‘Gonna leave a lump,’ she winced, feeling the sore spot with one hand and brushing the purple hair from her eyes with the other. Movement drew her attention back to the the home she had been watching, and a grin appear on her face. ‘Dash!’
The woman she had been looking for was stepping through a hole that had been smashed in the back of Trap Sense’s shack. Waiting for her, a sword bigger than any the hidden watcher had seen in her young life held easily, was a woman to match the weapon. Whoever she was, she was at least a full head taller, broad of shoulder and wearing an outfit the girl could only find impressive.
‘She looks awesome. I wonder what she’s doing with Dash,’ wondered the girl, her eyes fixed on the two in the dim gloom of the stars. The temptation to crawl out and get closer was so strong she nearly followed it, but she held herself back from it.
‘Dash will just make up some excuse and run off again,’ she thought bitterly. Her expression brightened as the two began to move, hurrying up the alleyway towards her location. ‘Alright Scootaloo, just like Nimble Step told you, and she won’t even notice me.’
They passed her, neither noticing the little girl with purple hair hidden away. Once they passed, she crept out and started to follow them. A grin stretched over her face, the night hiding her dirt and muck stained features.
‘I’m doing it! Now there’s no way she can ignore me anymore! They don’t even know I’m here.’
*
“We’re bein’ followed.”
Dash glanced at Applejack with a scowl. “Yeah, I know. She’s been following us since we left Trap Sense’s,” she snapped.
“Quite a secret to keep,” Applejack observed. She shrugged off the thief’s hostile response. Dash’s frequent winces and the pained twist to her features hadn’t gone unnoticed. ‘She’s mighty ornery even when she ain’t got a hand burned like that.’
“Because she’s harmless,” replied Dash, her tone low and bitter. “Scoots won’t do anything. Just let her have this, okay?”
Applejack frowned. “Rainbow, she’s followin’ us. I don’t care who she is, but it's dangerous. How do ya even know-”
“I know! Just leave it. We’ll lose her in a bit. Just...just let her do it for a while. Please.” she practically spat the word, but she said it nonetheless.
The ranger hesitated. ‘I’m gonna regret this...’ “Alright, she can follow us for a bit, but we gotta lose her when we get outta the midden.”
They stopped where the alley reached a larger road, the nighttime bustle alive and buzzing with voices. Lanterns lined the road running from the south gate to meet the city square. Just as the Solar Road, the same wide boulevard they had traveled in Twilight’s carriage from the anthill to the palace bisected the city from east to west, a less ornate road ran north to south. They met at the centre, where the great market square constantly bustled with the clink of coins and murmur of haggling.
“Right, so, we just go back to the palace? I don’t think they’ll let us in like this,” Dash pointed out. She stumbled slightly, and didn’t even protest when Applejack helped her steady. Her burned hand shook, the strengthening ache was getting harder to ignore.
“Didn’t ya pay any attention?” Applejack began to look through her pockets and her belt. “Just gotta find it...wait a sec...Twilight gave me this thing…”
Dash watched her for a while, waiting until Applejack started to get frustrated before she pulled out a small, copper coin and began to spin it around her left hand. It took a lot more concentration than she liked, but it was going to be so worth it. She might be in pain, her head might throb, but Dash was nothing if not willing to make sacrifices for the sake of annoying Applejack.
“I got it here somewhere…” digging through her belt pouches, Applejack growled and pulled her coat off.
“Whatcha lookin’ for?” Dash asked with forced casualness. She fumbled the coin at last. It bounced on the ground, rolling past Applejack as she bent down to check her boots.
“Little copper coin, kinda like...that...one…” Applejack straightened, copper coin in hand, and fixed Dash with an unamused stare. “I thought ya couldn’t do illegal stuff cause ‘a the magic.”
Dash shrugged. “Well, yeah, I kinda wasn’t thinking about it and I was gonna give it back. I guess if I don’t actually intend to steal stuff, or something, it let’s me do it. I dunno, ask someone who knows magic. Just do whatever you’re gonna do, okay?”
Scowling, Applejack recalled what Twilight had told her as she guided the pair from the palace. Muttering the ‘key word’ Twilight had told her, Applejack raised the coin to her lips.
“Er...Twilight? Can ya hear me?” she asked the coin. There was no reaction, and Applejack flushed. She felt foolish, and the way Dash was snickering didn’t help. The ranger hissed at her, “shut it.”
“I beg your pardon?”
Applejack yelped, nearly dropping the coin. She looked at it, eyes wide. She had seen magic, but the coin just glowed as Twilight’s voice suddenly arrived in her head without bothering to detour through her ears. Affirming her grip, she lifted it to her mouth again.
“Uh, sorry sugar, just tellin’ Dash to...ya know what, that ain’t important. ‘s me, Applejack, ya’ll can hear me alright, right?” she asked cautiously.
“Perfectly. What’s going on? Have you two had some luck?” Twilight, far distant, spoke into her coin, and Applejack repeated her words for Dash.
“Depends on what you consider lucky,” snarked Dash. She concealed a glance down the alley. Scootaloo was still there, still watching under the belief she had yet to be detected, but too far to hear what was being said.
Applejack shook her head at Dash. “Not as such. Rainbow’s got a burned hand that’s gonna need some healin’, an’ she’s a bit knocked about,” she reported.
“What? What happened? Is she okay?”
“I’m fine!” Dash snapped. She didn’t need Sparkle pretending to care.
“She says she’s fine, but she ain’t. Need to get her hand looked at, quick as we can, I can tell ya the rest later. Right now, makin’ sure she don’t lose that hand is more important,” Applejack grimaced slightly. Technically, she knew the sort of burn Dash had was pretty much, in most cases she had seen, not going to need amputation. Plenty of monsters in the Everfree had some acidic or fiery property about them, so she had some experience.
Dash’s eyes widened, staring at Applejack in shock. “Y-you’re not serious, right?”
Applejack ignored her, because she didn’t enjoy lying and would rather not do it at all. “So, if ya could direct us ta how to get back to ya, I’d appreciate it, an’ I think she would too.”
Silence answered her for a few seconds before Twilight finally answered.
“Is she really that badly hurt? I’m not sure I have that sort of potion on hand, but I can get some to purge any infection or such things if we require them,” she said, even her mental-voice a forced tone of aloofness that Applejack saw through.
“I…” Applejack took a gamble. She thought the words she wanted to say, willing them to Twilight as though she had spoken them. “She ain’t badly burned, but if I say that she’ll play it off an’ try ta put off the healin’ to show how tough she is, an’ she's lookin’ mighty tuckered out.”
She feared, for a silent moment, that she had done nothing more than ramble to herself. The sensation of words without sound, somehow forming Twilight’s voice, relieved her of the worry seconds later.
“I see. Where are you?”
Applejack let out a sigh of relief, wincing when Dash sent her a curious look. She answered with an awkward smile, asking, “What’s the name of this road again, Rainbow? Like, where ‘bouts we are?”
“About halfway up the Dirt Road, I guess,” Dash shrugged, a gesture that took more effort than she had expected and set some trembling in her legs. She leaned back against the wall. She felt...tired. A lot more tired than she should. The throbbing ache in her hand wasn’t helping any, merely adding another burden to her already too full load of problems, reminding her of what Applejack had said.
Sending Twilight the answer she wanted, Applejack watched Dash sway. It took an effort of will not to rush over, knowing that sort of fuss would only wound Dash’s pride more than needing to be saved had and make her less manageable.
“Feels like I’m playin’ nanny,” she thought.
“I’m sure you would make a fine nanny,” Twilight answered, her thought-voice tinged with amusement, probably more than she knew or wanted to show, that made Applejack grimace, realising her mistake. “That aside, my carriage will be in the market square; it’s not unusual for me to make late night trips to the browse some of the stalls, you two can join me there.”
Applejack nodded, sending a reply a moment later when she realised Twilight couldn’t see it. “We’ll be there. Bring some more of them potions, unless ya want Dash faintin’.”
“I will,” promised the wizard. The link broke with a snap that Applejack was sure was just her imagination. Stuffing the coin into her belt, and making sure it was tucked where wandering fingers couldn’t find it, Applejack approached Dash.
“Time to lose our tail, sugar.” She held up a hand to forestall argument. “I put up with it before, but we’re meetin’ Twilight an’ considerin’ someone tried to kill her, we can’t risk it.”
Dash sighed, nodding reluctantly. “Yeah, I guess…” she shot a regretful look back, sighing again. “Let’s go. Follow me, I’ll drop her.”
The thief stepped past Applejack. The ranger let her lead, but the guilt in Dash’s eyes and the wobble in her steps didn’t go unnoticed. Tucking away these for later thought, Applejack conceded that perhaps Dash was a bit more complicated than she had expected.
“Sorry, Scootaloo…” Dash whispered to the little girl who couldn’t hear her.
They stepped into the flow that ran up and down the Dirt Road, as the road into the midden was lovingly known, and Dash seemed to melt into it. Applejack was a tad bit more forceful, lacking the native skill Dash seemed to possess. She shook away any resentment she might feel for the slender thief’s skill. It was as foolish as a city dweller feeling jealous over Applejack’s skill in the wilderness. This was Dash’s home, the environment she had grown up in.
Behind them, increasingly distant, Scootaloo scrambled in pursuit. It wasn’t long, unfortunately, before she realised she had lost them.
“....bye, Dash,” she mumbled to the women she knew didn’t care about her when, at last, she finally gave up. Scootaloo retreated into darkness of the alleyways, and the stink of the midden.
*
Twilight lowered the coin, frowning. From his position on the other side of the table, Spike lifted an eyebrow.
“What’s happening?” he asked curiously. He put down the book he had been reading, on another dozen piled next to him.
“Dash has been hurt. Spike, we’re going to need a few potions,” Twilight answered, rising from the table.
He paled. “Is she okay?”
“I think she’ll be fine. But please, a few healing potions, Cure Light wounds, and Remove Disease,” she urged him, pushing her chair in and hurrying towards a tall wooden cabinet.
“You know, it really takes away some of the...magic, calling them that.” Complaining had always helped Spike fight stress. “I mean, it’s so..clinical, ‘Cure Light Wounds’. How do you define ‘light’ wounds from ‘moderate’?”
She sniffed haughtily. “Spike, priests and untrained sorcerers may call their spells by what they like, or simply nothing at all, if it suits them. Regardless of whether they simply let the magic form as some kind of nameless divine occurrence or bellow what comes naturally, their magic can be categorised. It can be explained, and understood. A name is part of that understanding. Now, please, the potions. We’re going down to the night market.”
Ignoring his continued complaints, knowing them for what they were, Twilight murmured words that sung in the air. Each seemed to contain an element of song, as though it waited merely to be sung to be heard truly, soft to the ear and warm on the tongue. Runes shimmered into existence, inches from the surface of the wood, and slowly shifted until they no longer barred the cabinet doors. It clicked open, and she reached it, grasping a long, smooth shaft of wood.
Spike approached, carefully carrying a pouch that clinked gently with each movement. “You’re taking that with you?” he asked in disbelief.
“I’m taking it with us,” she corrected him, drawing out a staff carved from rich mahogany. It was topped with a purple gem, shot through with internal light that burned a magenta hue. Almost as an afterthought, she drew a slim wand of white wood and slipped it into her robe.
“Us? I’m coming?” he grinned, despite the seriousness of the situation. “You never let me come to the night market.”
“Tonight, Spike, I’m not letting you out of my sight,” Twilight informed him. She ran a hand over the knob atop her staff. “I’m going to activate the full wards when we leave. No one is getting in.”
Spike started to point out whoever it was had gotten into the palace just fine, but he shut his mouth. He was sure she had already thought of it. He followed her to the door, pulling on the outer robe she insisted he wear when he went out with her. She closed the door behind them, whispering words once again. Only three people knew the extent of the fully activated wards, and two of them were him and her.
“Let’s go.” Twilight strode past him a minute later, the full activation complete. “Not even Time Turner or Shining Armour could get in there, there’s no way another assassin will get in.”
Spike grinned as he hurried in her wake. He personally hoped they tried again. They would find the experience much more interesting.
*
By the time they reached the edge of the market, Applejack had finally decided that enough was enough. She grabbed Dash, holding the thief up as she nearly collapsed.
“I-I’m f-fine,” Dash muttered, the lie hollow even in her own ears. She was trembling, pain and fatigue taking their toll on her body. The most telling sign of her weakness, however, was that she made no move to push Applejack away.
“No, ya look like ya’ll are about to fall over dead. Come on Rainbow, ain’t much further,” Applejack urged her on. She took half the smaller woman’s weight, which was shockingly little. She had looked far too thin in the bath.
Dash grunted in reply, her gaze unfocused. Applejack bit her lip, worry gnawing at her, and gave the thief a shake. “Come on, Rainbow, talk to me.”
“A-about wha’?” she mumbled in response.
“About…” Applejack sought for something, all but carrying Dash through the crowd. They get a few looks, but the market was too busy as its night shift began. Stalls were occupied by new stores, vendors hawked goods that the night favoured, and people went about their business. “That light!”
“...light?”
Applejack nodded. “The blue one, I saw flashin’ from the shack. That’s why I got close enough to hear ya fightin’. What was that?”
It took nearly a minute for Dash to answer. She was slumped against Applejack, the ranger’s grip the only thing holding her up. Any pretense of independent movement was lost as she grew more and more exhausted. She couldn’t remember ever being so tired. It was more than just the pain of her hand; it wasn’t merely bone deep.
“M-magic…” she smiled faintly, letting out a huffing laugh. “I did magic…”
It sounded more like she was losing her wits to Applejack, but she wasn’t about to say that. “Did ya now? How about that.”
Dash nodded and nearly tripped, feet dragging along. “I did! I-I felt...so…so...I dunno...right. Like the li-lightning had been waiting there, j-just waiting for me…”
“Uh-uh, I’m sure it was- hey, there’s her carriage!” Applejack saw it at last, the same carriage that had carried them from the guard fort. It sat slightly off the side, next to the cleared path that the Solar Road cut across the market. A head of green hair sat on the top. turning slowly to cast his gaze across market. She raised her hand as Spike looked her way, but he didn’t seem to notice, save for a gesture she was too far to interpret.
“Hey, Applejack!” She nearly let go of Dash, Spike’s voice taking her by surprise. The thief, once more unfocused, mumbled incoherently as she resettled her grip. “Oh, sorry. Using a spell. Whisper and I’ll hear you.”
“Spike! What the heck?” she growled, pushing her way towards the carriage.
“No! Applejack, get back, Twilight is worried someone might be watching her,” Spike frantically whispered from afar.
Her eyes narrowed. “Where am I suppose to go then? Dash needs some lookin’ after, right quick,” she snapped.
She could see him wincing even from this distance.
“Yeah, I know. Okay, there’s a stall like five feet from us. You see it? The one with the curtains? Go in there.”
Applejack found the stall easily; it was practically a tent. She headed for it, determinedly pushing through the crowd. By the time she was there, she really was carrying Dash. Twilight was waiting inside, inspecting a roll of fabric. The insides of the tent-like stall gave Applejack pause for a moment, but she shook it off.
“-tirely? Zebrican fabric of this quality is quite rare,” she was saying to the stall owner, a woman with skin darker than Twilight and marked with tattoos across her entire body. Her hair was in an impressive mohawk, a grey that would have put her at an old age were it not for her smooth features.
“Harvested in my homeland, I assure you, and as all my goods, crafted by my own hand,” the woman answered, her common as accented as her appearance. She began to smile at Applejack, only to frown when she saw Dash. “My friend, later I shall make amends, this one seems to be courting her end. Our little tete e tete can wait, unless you wish her to meet her fate."
She began to reach into the scattered array of objects. Jars, bottles, swathes of fabrics and items crafted from materials ranging from wood to bone to stone lay before her.
"Such wounds would make the stomach churn, luckily I am no stranger to such burns. A simple balm is all you need,” she offered a small, flat jar to Applejack, hurrying over and dabbing some onto her hand.”Now stay calm...this will sting.”
Applejack began to protest, but the exotic woman took charge of the slender girl and pulled her arm out. She looked at Twilight in alarm, who shrugged. Dash let out a whimper, trying to draw her hand back from the stranger applying the stinging cream.
“Um, ma’am? Not sure who ya are, but-” Applejack began to protest. She kept her strong grip on Dash with one hand, the other holding the jar up where it had been shoved into her hand. Twilight watched, her eyes glittering with magic.
“You do not know me, true, but my intentions are merely to heal as is my due,” answered the woman. She smiled at Dash, the thief trying to focus on her. “Hello there, my unwell friend. I am Zecora, here to help you mend.”
“H-hey…” she muttered back.
“Fascinating. Your balm has Transmutation magic in it,” Twilight remarked. “A potion in balm form, remarkable. Thank you, although I had potions of my own for her.”
Zecora raised her eyebrows, glancing at her customer curiously. Understanding flashed in her eyes and she frowned.
“Pleased to heal, as ever I am, I do not appreciate interest you reveal to be a sham.” Her tone sharp, Zecora released Dash’s arm. The white balm had been spread evenly across the burn, coating Dash’s hand.
Twilight nodded, her expression apologetic. “My interest was genuine, I assure you, even if I originally asked you to close off your stall for a moment for ulterior motives. I will reimburse you for as long as we delay your from your business.”
Sighing, Zecora shook her head and returned to looking through her goods. “I see the truth in your words and honesty in your eyes, but please, I would thank you for telling me no more lies. Now, allow me to find something that may restore her health. Unlike a burn, to cure magical fatigue takes more wealth.”
“Magical fatigue?” Applejack and Twilight asked at the same time.
“Me!” Dash, still held up by Applejack, waved her balm-covered hand in the air. Her expression was distant and dazed. “I did magic! Made him go bzzzzt!”
Twilight pressed a hand to her head. This was too much at once.
“Miss Zecora, I assure you, I can pay for anything you have that can help, including that balm. But...magical fatigue can only be fixed by rest, or inordinately powerful magic,” she informed the vendor. She looked at Applejack. “We will discuss what happened in a minute. For now, Zecora is right, making sure Dash is okay should come first.”
“Ah, so you say, but I have a way.” Zecora smiled softly, not at all bothered by Twilight’s outright disbelief. “Let me brew my tea, and then you will see. It will take some time, so if you wish you to leave that would be fine.”
“Thank you. I will return in a few minutes.” Giving the strange woman a thankful nod, Twilight stood at the edge of the tent-like cover, sealing them from sight and hearing. She motioned for Applejack to come over.
“Right, so, we-” Applejack began, only to be cut off by a raised hand.
“Just a moment.” Twilight placed one hand on Applejack’s shoulder and the other on Dash’s. “I’m going to move us into the carriage. I need you both to let my magic move us.”
Applejack nodded, and Dash made a sound both interpreted to be a vague yes. Twilight closed her eyes for a moment. Outside, Spike climbed down and pulled the door facing the tent open. He let it swing wide for a moment, apparently losing his grip as he pulled it open too quickly.
With a faint ‘pop!’ of displaced air, the three women vanished. Zecora raised an eyebrow, shrugging it off. At the same moment, they appeared in the carriage. The door swung shut, Spike stepping in with a grin.
“How cool is that?” he asked, unmindful of Applejack nearly slipping. He sat down next to Twilight. Unlike the newcomers, she had little difficulty from the abrupt shift of location.
“What in tarnation was that?” Applejack growled. She sat Dash down, the thief promptly slumping again her.
“I specialise in a sub-school of the Conjuration school of magic, Teleporta-” Twilight began. She stopped when Spike let out an explosive sigh. Her tone turned dry. “Something wrong?”
“You could just say ‘I teleported us’,” he pointed out.
Massaging her forehead for a moment, Twilight debated whether this was worth arguing about. Eventually concluding it wasn’t, she turned to Applejack.
“What happened? How did she get hurt?”
Applejack told her what she knew, from the visit to Dash’s first contact, to finding the next dead and the strobing blue flash drawing Applejack’s attention to what went on within.
“She said she did magic, an’ that Zecora lady said somethin’ about ‘magical fatigue’? What’s that?” Applejack asked. She rubbed the dazed thief on the shoulder, keeping her at least a bit focused.
Twilight frowned, deep in thought. “Something sorcerers go through, on occasion,” she answered eventually. “Typically when they first awaken their full abilities, in particularly stressful situations. They can unleash a spell close to their bloodline, even ones that require a lot of work to use again. It sounds like when she was defending herself against this…”
“Wererat,” Applejack repeated, spitting the word like a curse. “It was a wererat. I know how to spot one o’ their kind. Moon-worshippin’ monsters.”
“Are you sure it wasn’t just a ratfolk? They live in the south, and I’ve never heard of one coming this far, but from what I understand it would be easy to confuse them with a wererat,” suggested Twilight carefully.
The ranger shook her head. “It was a wererat. I don’t mean to be rude, but my family has dealt with their kind down in the Everfree for generations. This hat does more than just let me see in the dark, sugar.” She reached up, touching the brim of her hat. “Granny always said it would help me in more ways than one, but the second I saw that beast I knew what it was.”
Twilight looked at Applejack’s hat wistfully. She itched to examine it further. Her brief look had clearly been insufficient, if it was truly capable of helping Applejack identify a wererat. She had more important things to deal with, however, much as she wanted to find every little secret in that hat.
“If it was a wererat...we’ll deal with that later. For now, to be brief, yes, Dash is showing all the signs of magical fatigue. I was positive before, but now I’m certain; Dash is a sorcerer. It’s how I was able to follow her after her thefts,” Twilight explained. She looked at the woozy girl, remembering Spike’s words from earlier. She was doubtless going to be upset, at least when she was more lucid, about Twilight not telling her this earlier. For all her mention of magic to Dash in the prison cell, Twilight knew she had failed to truly explain it to her. Dash would probably just take this as more evidence to distrust her for being noble-born.
The dark-skinned wizard pressed a hand to her head, sighing. An assassination attempt, a wererat murderer and a thief who thought she was out to get her awakening sorcerous powers, all in one day.
“So much...Spike, hand me your ring. I’m going to check on Zecora’s cure for magical fatigue,” she said.
Spike pulled a ring off his finger, handing it to her wtth a skeptical frown. “You think she might try to poison Rainbow Dash?”
“Her name is just-” Twilight sighed again. “Oh, forget it. Call her what you want. I don’t know if she intends to, but I’m just making sure whatever folk-cure she has isn’t going to have any unfortunate side-effects. Once that fails to work, I can buy the Zebrican fabric, a few other things that caught my eye and reimburse her for using her stall in such a fashion, then we can go.”
Taking the ring, crafted to detect poison and alert the wearer, Twilight left the carriage, hurrying into the tent. Zecora was waiting, a small clay bowl of steaming tea in front of her.
“Ah, my learned friend, I almost feared you had fled. Put to rest your doubt, this tea will do as I said. What her magic drained from her, this cure will make stronger.” She offered the tea to Twilight, who smiled as she slipped on the ring and took it.
“Thank you, I shall give it to her. If you would excuse me just a moment, Miss Zecora,” Twilight said politely. She glanced at the ring. It gave no sign, its magic picking up nothing poisonous or dangerous in the drink. Returning to the carriage, Twilight let Applejack take it and coax Dash into opening her mouth just enough to dribble it in.
It took several minutes to drain the small bowl, stray drops running down Dash’s chin. All three stared at her, waiting for something. Spike finally spoke up, his attention span reaching its limit.
“I guess it was a dud after all,” he grumbled.
Dash’s eyelids fluttered for a moment as he spoke, before snapping open. Unlike before, the look in them was wide awake and alert. She jerked away from Applejack with a growl.
“What in the long night? When did we get here?” she demanded, looking about the carriage in shock. Dash drew her right arm up to wipe the liquid from her chin, only noticing the balm when it crumbled to pieces. She let out a grunt of surprise, looking down at the hardened balm. “What is this stuff?”
She poked it, watching it fall away like weak, dry clay to reveal pink, smooth skin under it. Her fingers moved and her hand shook, removing the balm to reveal a hand perfectly healed. There wasn’t so much as a single sign that she had suffered a burn on it.
Twilight’s mouth had dropped open. She stared at Dash in surprise, processing what had happened.
“It worked,” she said, almost whispering. “Amazing! Absolutely amazing! Spike, get my notebook, I need to find out how Zecora made this.”
Groaning, Spike obediently retrieved a small, thin book from beneath his seat. He handed it over to her, just as Dash let out a frustrated growl.
“What,” she snarled, “is going on? My head feels weird and my arm isn’t burnt anymore, and I...”
Twilight slowly sat down, her eager rush to see Zecora delayed by Dash’s expression. The thief looked like someone had just struck her over the head, knocking her wits about.
“I...did magic. How did I…” Dash looked slowly at Twilight, her eyes narrowing. Her tone turned accusing. “You. You knew. You mentioned magic this morning, in the prison. You knew!”
Applejack glanced at Twilight, frowning slightly. She sat back, deciding not to intervene. She could see the guilty look in Twilight’s eyes, and the sincerity of Dash’s anger.
“Yes, I did,” Twilight agreed with a sigh. “My reasons for giving you both the option of taking this service in place of hard labour were not as virtuous as they appeared. Dash, yes, I knew you had magic. I even knew you were close to your magical gifts fully awakening.”
“Then why didn’t you tell me? I knew you had some angle!” Her tone furious, Dash drew back into her spot, glaring at Twilight.
“I just- I wasn’t sure how to approach it. Please, Dash, I never meant for you to have such a violent awakening. I wanted to study your magic a bit more, find a way to help you wield it without such drastic measures. I didn’t expect you to activate your magic before the day was out,” explained the wizard, her aloof tone turned regretful. She glanced at Spike, who managed to keep from giving her an ‘I told you so’ look.
The thief grunted, looking away. “Yeah, I bet. If I could actually get away, I would be so gone.”
Silence filled the carriage. Dash stared at the ceiling, her expression etched with passive anger as Twilight struggled to find a way to convince her new, troublesome charge. Applejack caught her eyes and gave a small shake of her head. Now wasn’t the time, she tried to say with her eyes.
Sighing in defeat, Twilight quietly stepped out, notebook and coin purse in one hand and a quill and inkpot in the other. Silence continued to reign after she was gone, at least until a quiet voice cut through it.
“She was going to tell you, you know,” Spike said, staring at Dash hopefully.
She gave him a wordless snort of disbelief and derision in reply. “Yeah, I bet she was.”
“We talked about it, earlier, she was going to tell you tonight,” he persisted. “You’ve only known her for a day, give her a chance. Twilight isn’t good with people.”
“Seems to get on fine with you, scale-boy.” She glanced down for a moment and regretted her harsh tone when she saw the flash of pain in his eyes.
He swallowed the hurt and continued, “Twilight has been like a big sister, sometimes even a mother, to me since I was found. She helped me learn how to control my magic. I mean, yeah, she wants to study your bloodline magic, but she wants to help you too. Just give her a chance.”
Dash stared balefully at him. He was begging her to give the fancy skirts noble girl a chance? ‘What, is she that friendless she needs to press-gang criminals?’
Further discussion was forestalled by the door swinging open. Her coins purse much lighter, Twilight wordlessly stepped in and took her seat. The door clicked shut behind her and a quiet journey back to the palace began.
*
The quiet group strode through the empty halls surrounding Twilight’s chambers. She held up a warning hand when they reached her door.
“I need to deactivate the triggers for my wards,” she told them.
Dash snorted. “Yeah, because they worked so well against whoever snuck in before,” she sneered.
A faint scowl of irritation crept onto Twilight’s face. Her eyes hardened as she glared at the thief.
“My wards were not fully activated then. These are highly sensitive spells, designed for optimal protection when full activated. They are, however, straining to turn on and off, and since I’d left Spike here I couldn’t activate them,” she explained. Her tone was just a shade annoyed at the apparent shot at her defences.
“Remember that time you thought I was out, and turned them on?” Spike reminded her with a snicker.
She grimaced, flushing at the memory. “Spike…” she began warningly.
“I was in there for like, five hours before you got back,” he persisted. “Totally unable to move!”
He struck a ridiculous pose, arms out wide and balancing on one foot.
“Just standing there, stuck in place-”
“I think they get it, Spike!” Twilight hissed, glaring at him at him. Her cheeks were flushed and her expression sharp with annoyance and embarrassment. She did her best to ignore Dash snickering. At least Applejack wasn’t laughing as well, although the ranger’s mouth was quirked in an amused grin.
At last the wards were lowered, and Twilight cautiously opened the door. The need for caution in her own home caused her more upset than Spike’s retelling that embarrassing story. A sense of violation filtered through the mage’s aloof demeanour, turning her annoyed scowl into a frown. The flaring of mage lights she had crafted herself did nothing to shake the sense of unease she was feeling.
“Spike, start looking for any information we have on wererats. Start in the curses section. I seem to recall lycanthropes being mentioned in a few books on transformative curses. We need to know their abilities and habits,” she ordered. Her eyes glowed with magic, peering for any magic she had not left here herself. Twilight glanced at Applejack for a moment. “Applejack, I know you must be tired, but I would appreciate if you helped him.”
The ranger gave her a casual nod, but she kept her sword by her side and her armoured coat on. She didn’t completely trust their safety here, and Twilight eyed Applejack’s hat as the woman followed Spike. Much as she wanted to, inspecting it now would only serve to sate her curiosity and little else. Instead Twilight turned to the suspicious thief.
“What?” Dash cocked an eyebrow at her. “I can’t read, guess I can’t help.”
Twilight ignored the mocking tone, instead putting her staff down and taking a seat at one of the tables. She had cleared it earlier, and now only a small stack of thin books remained.
“Sit down please,” she asked, quiet and polite.
Dash looked at the only other chair at the table, right next to Twilight, but didn’t move. She folded her arms, mouth forming a petulant scowl. Twilight just looked at her silently, until it became apparent that Dash was going to move exactly zero feet towards her.
Twilight restrained the sigh she desperately wanted to let out.
“Dash, please,sit down. I just want to help you,” she told her wary ward, her words failings to budge Dash so much as one step.
“Help? Dash snorted. “Yeah, sure. How, exactly, do you plan to ‘help’ me?”
Twilight kept any annoyance or frustration from her face as she answered, “I’m going to teach you to read.”
That brought the thief up short, and she stared at Twilight blankly. “R-read?” she spluttered.
“Yes. Now please, sit down. I promise, I just want to teach you to read.” Twilight let a note of frustration creep into her voice. “It offends me that no one has ever tried to teach you before; everyone should know how to read. So sit down and pay attention. Please.”
Twilight saw the light of desire in Dash’s eyes. She wanted to read, as Twilight had known she surely must. Not simply because reading was, in her considered opinion, absolutely wonderful, but because she was willing to make some assumptions about Dash. Self reliance was something important to her, being apart from the guilds and gangs as she claimed to be. The ability to read would be one less thing she would have to rely on others for.
It was a battle between Dash’s pride and her need for independence, and Twilight hoped her pride lost the fight. It seemed crazy to her, that Dash’s pride would stop her from taking this chance, but for all her criminal livelihood, the thief seemed to her to be a rather prideful person. Being seen as weak was not in the cards for her.
“Alright, I guess,” Dash kept her tone light and just an inch away from mocking as she sat down. “No skin off my nose.”
“Of course. Now, tell me, what letters do you know?” Twilight, for her part, kept any satisfaction from her voice or expression. On the inside, however, she was delighted.
An hour later, she was less so.
“Alright, that’s enough.” Twilight sat back, sighing. She pressed her hands against her forehead, massing away the headache she was sure would follow. In all fairness, Dash was actually doing quite well. She was a fast learner, absorbing new information quickly. Unfortunately, her refusal to admit when she was uncertain made progress slow, and Dash never asked for help.
“Hey, I’m not doing that bad!” Dash insisted, glaring at her.
Twilight held her hands up defensively. “I never said you were. We can continue this tomorrow, just let what you’ve learned so far sink in. For now, I want to help Spike and Applejack.”
Scratching her neck, Dash leaned back. She looked over to where the other two were reading through book after book. Spike’s pile of completed books was significantly bigger than Applejack’s, being as he had actually finished one. The ranger had noticed this herself, glancing at it in annoyance every now and then. She could read, but Spike was clearly far more practiced than her.
Dash was brought from her musings by a flash of violet and brown in front of her face. She drew back with a yelp, glaring at the hand Twilight had been waving in front her. Before she could spit out an insult, she found a pair of balls shoved into her hands. She stared down at the silver-bound glass orbs in confusion.
“What are these for?”
“Keep those on you for a few days. They’re enchanted, and I can learn more about where your magic comes from,” Twilight answered without looking. She joined Spike, sitting next to him and taking up a book.
“What am I supposed to do?” the thief whined.
Applejack glanced up and grinned. “Take a bath? Ya’ll are still in rags.”
“Good idea,” chimed in Spike. “You kind of smell like, uh, blood and something...zangy? Zingy? Dunno, reminds me of that time you let me fly on my birthday and that thunderstorm rolled in, Twilight.”
‘Fly? Did he say fly?’ Dash’s eyes narrowed, zeroing in on Spike.
The wizard shook her head, frowning at him.”And that is something I am never doing again. I cast that spell for you, once, after you spent an hour begging and what do you do?”
He sighed, saying it at the same time as her; “‘I nearly flew into a storm,’ yeah, I know Twilight, I was there.”
Dash quietly left for the bath. She spent a few minutes just laying in the warm water, staring at nothing. She turned the orbs over in her hands, juggling them absently. ‘Fly into a storm...now there’s something I want to do.’
She was so focused, the door slamming open took her completely by surprise. Applejack stood there, her expression urgent. She threw a bundle of clothes on the floor.
“Get out an’ get dressed, we gotta go. Twilight’s gone off, some messenger turned up, her brother wanted her somewhere urgent so she grabbed a scroll, an’ took off through the window!”
Barely bothering to dry herself, Dash gave her a disbelieving look. “Through the window?”
Applejack nodded. “She seemed kinda in a rush,” she explained, eyes wide. “Told me to say here, keep an eye on Spike. Then she flew out the window!”
“Long night, why do I miss the good stuff?” the thief whined. “What’s so urgent she has to fly out the window?”
Applejack gave her a shrug. “No idea. Somethin’ about some fella called ‘Time Turner’.”
*
Twilight shot through the sky, her robe rustling about her. The flight spell kept her aloft, her staff clutched tightly as cold winds buffeted her. A messenger from her brother was odd enough, since he usually preferred to take any chance he had to get away from paperwork and visit her, but one telling her to go to Time Turner’s as soon as she possibly could?
She narrowed her eyes. Arcane words flowed from her mouth, fingers carving symbols on the night sky. The air shimmered for a moment around her, invisible armour forming about her. After today, she had every right to be cautious. Assassins and wererats…
The merchant district in which Time Turner made his home was coming up. Flight was a wonderful thing, soaring directly over the city of her birth without the delay of navigating streets. While the feeling of flight was one she was used to, and had come to enjoy since mastering the spell, something inside her was unnerved. There was something wrong, but she had no idea what. The closer she got, the more worried she became.
Descending as she approached, Twilight stared at where her friend’s house was supposed to be. The buildings to either side of it were charred, but largely undamaged. It seemed incongruous, their relative lack of damage as they sat on either side of the gutted, blackened remains. She froze, staring numbly at the ruins of her friend’s house. A shout from below, her brother, called for her. She barely heard him.
‘The book. He had a copy of the book. I should have warned him,’ she thought numbly. The urge to vomit rose, fought down without conscious thought. Twilight stumbled as she landed, pushing through the press of guards surrounding what remained of the house.
Her brother, clad in brilliant mithril plate, stood in what had once been the entrance. Nothing remained save a few hardy timbers. Without using any spell, she could feel the presence of magic. The cold, analytical part of her noted that the sheer lack of debris or remains meant the fire must have been enormously hot, more so than it should have been here. Magic had been used here.
“Shining! What happened?” she asked, standing next to him, staring at the charred outline of the house’s edges. Too sharp and abrupt to be natural, a perfect rectangle of soot and char.
His expression was flat, his emotions buried deep. “I came as soon as word got to me, but…”
“But what?” Fear took a vice grip around her, clenching her heart into a knot of ice in her chest. “But he was away, right? Time Turner, he was on one of his trips, wasn’t he?”
Shining Armour let out a weary sigh, closing his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, grief filled his gaze.
“He got back today, Twilight. His neighbours...they saw him go in. He...he was in there, and no one came out. I’m sorry, Twilight. He’s….” Shining Armour stopped, unable to voice what they both knew he had been able to say. He just reached over, pulling his sister tight against his chest as tears began to fall from her eyes. They stayed there, next to the ruins, and a single, painful thought slammed into Twilight.
‘He’s dead. He’s dead, and it’s all my fault…’
*